DISCLAIMER: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the said books.
I was shaking in terror bent over the stove cooking dinner as I heard Charlie's cruiser pull up in the driveway. I frantically ran about, trying to get Charlie's dinner on the table. I heard the front door open, Charlie's loud footsteps thumping over the threshold. Hurriedly I got bowls out of the cupboards, but I accidentally slipped, falling, causing the bowl to smash.
Charlie entered the kitchen. He was drunk. He stared around him before he saw me lying on the floor with a smashed bowl at my side. He walked around the kitchen table, his expression kind. I knew it was just an act; he was going to blow any second.
"Well well. What happened here Isabella?" he asked, his voice sneering. He would always do this. He would start off being kind; then he would sneer and criticize, before finally becoming violent. Charlie stopped walking when he reached me.
"I asked you a question. What happened here Isabella?" Charlie raised his voice. I cowered, scared. The old routine was going to begin again. This happened day after day after day. I tried to speak, but my voice just came out as a squeak. Charlie sneered, looking at me in disgust.
"Get up," he ordered. When I didn't move he bent down and grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me up to my feet. I whimpered in pain as he ripped some hair hard from the roots.
"Please d-dad," I whimpered, fighting back tears. If I tried, it only seemed to infuriate him further. Surprisingly he let go of me, pushing me into one of the wooden kitchen chairs.
"Sit. Now," Charlie commanded. I complied, sitting down on the chair. Charlie walked over to the stove where his dinner lay almost finished. Charlie got a fork and took of the lid of the pot and had a taste before spitting it back out into the pot.
"What the fuck is this?! Eh?! You trying to poison me or something?! God, you're useless! No wonder Renee left when she did! Just to get away from you, you useless little worm!" I cowered in the seat, the back of it pressing into my back as Charlie screamed at me. He raised his fist and it collided with my temple. I fell sideways onto the table, my head hitting the wooden surface with a sickening crack.
Charlie seemed to be trying to control his anger. He stood in the middle of the kitchen breathing heavily; his fists clenched at his side, the vein in his temple looking as if it would burst at any moment.
'If looks could kill, I would be dead and roasted by now,' I thought to myself. I couldn't prevent a small giggle from escaping my lips. I tried to cover it up, pretend it was a cough, but Charlie saw through it.
"You think this is funny do you? Do you?! You're nothing more than a pathetic little shadow of what Renee was. You drove her away, you stupid little girl! Can't you do a single thing right?" Charlie was right in my face screaming this. Suddenly he disappeared. I lifted my head and looked around the small kitchen. I saw Charlie leaning against the stove again, his hands on the dials, trying not to punch something. My eyes landed on the tomato soup the same time as his did.
Charlie grabbed the tomato soup and threw it straight at me. I screamed as the hot liquid scalded my skin. I fell onto the ground whimpering. Tomato soup was all over my face; in my already cut temple wound; all down my arms and legs. The boiling liquid seeped through my clothes and onto my skin.
Charlie stared at me for several moments, fury in his eyes, before calming down and realising what he'd done. He ran forwards, scooped me up and raced upstairs to wash the soup off. He stripped me of all of my clothes, ignoring my squirming at the thought of my dad seeing my twelve year old naked body. He dumped me in the massive bath tub before turning the water on full blast at cold. I gasped and shivered at the temperature, while Charlie grabbed the scrubbing brush and began to scrub hard, erasing any trace of the soup. I screamed in pain when he scrubbed over the raw wounds that had just been caused, but my screams fell to deaf ears. Finally, once Charlie was satisfied that I was clean, he picked dragged me out of the tub by the arm, ignoring my protests and cries. Charlie slapped me across the face, hard.
"Shut up! If you weren't so useless I wouldn't have to do this. Why can't you just get out of my life?" Charlie spat. He sneered at me once more, before spitting at my feet and leaving, slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.
I slowly sunk down the side of the tub, crying to myself. I was still naked and shivering; Charlie hadn't left a towel behind. I looked down my body, seeing the bruises everywhere; on my chest, my torso, and my thighs. Anywhere where no one would see the evidence when I changed for PE at school. On my back were cigarette burns where Charlie had used me as an ashtray. I wrapped my arms around my pathetic body. Would this torture ever end?
AN: OK, so this is the prologue. If you want more, click the little purple review button. Please. Thankssssss.